"That he didn't. Made it all up out of my own head."
"A miserable insult," muttered Distin.
"But he had nothing to do with it, Distie," said Macey; "all my own; and
if you wish for satisfaction--swords or pistols at six sharp, with
coffee, I'm your man."
Distin took no heed of him, but stood watching Vane, his dark half-shut
eyes flashing as they gazed into the lad's calm wide-open grey orbs.
"I say," continued Macey, "if you wish for the satisfaction of a
gentleman--"
"Satisfaction--gentleman!" raged out Distin, as he turned suddenly upon
Macey. "Silence, buffoon!"
"The buffoon is silent," said Macey, sinking calmly down into his place;
"but don't you two fight, please, till after we've got back and had some
food. I say, Gil, is there no place up here where we can buy some
tuck?"
"No," replied Gilmore; and then, "Sit down, Vane. Come, Distie, what is
the good of kicking up such a row about nothing. You really are too
bad, you know. Let's, you and I, row back."
"Keep your advice till it is asked for," said Distin contemptuously.
"You, Macey, go back yonder into the stern. Perhaps Mr Vane Lee will
condescend to take another seat."
"Oh, certainly," said Vane quietly, though there was a peculiar
sensation of tingling in his veins, and a hot feeling about the throat.
The peculiar human or animal nature was effervescing within him, and
though he hardly realised it himself, he wanted to fight horribly, and
there was that mastering him in those moments which would have made it a
keen joy to have stood ashore there on the grass beneath the chalk cliff
and pummelled Distin till he could not see to get back to the boat.
But he did not so much as double his fist, though he knew that Macey and
Gilmore were both watching him narrowly and thinking, he felt sure,
that, if Distin struck him, he would not return the blow.
As the three lads took their seats, Distin, with a lordly contempt and
arrogance of manner, removed his jacket, and deliberately doubled it up
to place it forward. Then slowly rolling up his sleeves he took the
sculls, seated himself and began to back-water but without effect, for
the boat was too firmly aground forward.
"You'll never get her off that way," cried Macey the irrepressible.
"Now lads, all together, make her roll."
"Sit still, sir!" thundered Distin--at least he meant to thunder, but it
was only a hoarse squeak.
"Yes, sir; certainly, sir," cried Macey; and then, in an undertone to
his companions, "Shall we not sterrike for ferreedom? Are we all--er--
serlaves!"
Then he laughed, and slapped his leg, for Distin drew in one scull,
rose, and began to use the other to thrust the boat off.
"I say, you know," cried Macey, as Gilmore held up the boat-hook to
Distin, but it was ignored, "I don't mean to pay my whack if you break
that scull."
"Do you wish me to break yours?" retorted Distin, so fiercely that his
words came with a regular snarl.
"Oh, murder! he's gone mad," said Macey, in a loud whisper; and screwing
up his face into a grimace which he intended to represent horrible
dread, but more resembled the effects produced by a pin or thorn, he
crouched down right away in the stern of the boat, but kept up a
continuous rocking which helped Distin's efforts to get her off into
deep water. When the latter seated himself, turned the head, and began
to row back, that is to say, he dipped the sculls lightly from time to
time, so as to keep the boat straight, the stream being strong enough to
carry them steadily down without an effort on the rower's part.
Macey being right in the stern, Vane and Gilmore sat side by side,
making a comment now and then about something they passed, while Distin
was of course alone, watching them all from time to time through his
half-closed eyes, as if suspicious that their words might be relating to
him.
Then a gloomy silence fell, which lasted till Macey burst out in
ecstatic tones:
"Oh, I am enjoying of myself!"
Then, after a pause:
"Never had such a glorious day before."
Another silence, broken by Macey once more, saying in a deferential
way:--
"If your excellency feels exhausted by this unwonted exertion, your
servant will gladly take an oar."
Distin ceased rowing, and, balancing the oars a-feather, he said
coldly:--
"If you don't stop that chattering, my good fellow, I'll either pitch
you overboard, or set you ashore to walk home."
"Thankye," cried Macey, cheerfully; "but I'll take the dry, please."
Distin's teeth grated together as he sat and scowled at his
fellow-pupil, muttering, "Chattering ape;" but he made no effort to put
his threats into execution, and kept rowing on, twisting his neck round
from time to time, to see which way they were going; Vane and Gilmore
went on talking in a low tone; and Macey talked to himself.
"He has made me feel vicious," he said. "I'm a chattering ape, am I?
He'll pitch me overboard, will he? I'd call him a beast, only it would
be so rude. He'd pitch me overboard, would he? Well, I could swim if
he did, and that's more than he could do."
Macey looked before him at Vane and Gilmore, to see that the former had
turned to the side and was thoughtfully dipping his hand in the water,
as if paddling.
"Halloo, Weathercock!" he cried. "I know what you're thinking about."
"Not you," cried Vane merrily, as he looked back.
"I do. You were thinking you could invent a machine to send the boat
along far better than old West Indies is doing it now."
Vane stared at him.
"Well," he said, hesitatingly, "I was not thinking about Distin's
rowing, but I was trying to hit out some way of propelling a boat
without steam."
"Knew it! I knew it! Here, I shan't read for the bar; I shall study up
for a head boss conjurer, thought-reader, and clairvoyant."
"For goodness' sake, Gilmore, lean back, and stuff your handkerchief in
that chattering pie's mouth. You had better; it will save me from
pitching him into the river."
Then deep silence fell on the little party, and Macey's eyes sparkled.
"Yes, he has made me vicious now," he said to himself; and, as he sat
back, he saw something which sent a thought through his brain which made
him hug his knees. "Let me see," he mused: "Vane can swim and dive like
an otter, and Gil is better in the water than I am. All right, my boy;
you shall pitch me in."
Then aloud:
"Keep her straight, Distie. Don't send her nose into the willows."
The rower looked sharply round, and pulled his right scull. Then, a
little further on, Macey shouted:--
"Too much port--pull your right."
Distin resented this with an angry look; but Macey kept on in the most
unruffled way, and, by degrees, as the rower found that it saved him
from a great deal of unpleasant screwing round and neck-twisting, he
began to obey the commands, and pulled a little harder, so that they
travelled more swiftly down the winding stream.
"Port!" shouted Macey. "Port it is! Straight on!"